


if you go down to the woods today

by Shea M (bubblebee)



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And possibly Underaged, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Charles is Little Red, Come Eating (Light), Come as Lube, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Frottage, Graphic Description of Corpses, Growling, Hand Jobs, Howling, Light Stalking, Loss of Virginity, Lots of kissing, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, Non-Graphic Violence, Overstimulation, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut, Song Lyrics, Step-siblings, Violent Sex, Werewolf Noises, Werewolf Sex, erik is a werewolf, graphic description of gore, kind of, little red riding hood elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:38:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblebee/pseuds/Shea%20M
Summary: "If you go down to the woods today,you're sure of a big surprise..."





	if you go down to the woods today

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do a werewolf au and this is what happened. 
> 
> Underage tag in place because ages are never specified, but Charles is called 'boy' a whole lot. 
> 
> There's gore description here, so be careful of that. 
> 
> Title from "Teddy Bear's Picnic" by Anne Murray. 
> 
> The lyrics are also hers, I own nothing. Nada. Not a thing.

“Just stay on the goddamn trail and you’ll be fine, now stop bitching and get ready.”

 

Charles laced up his walking boots while his stepfather cursed at him from his spot on the couch, his words slurred heavily with drink. 

 

It was just now past four, and Charles had been given the task of delivering a few miscellaneous supplies to his older stepbrother who lived just beyond the wide stretch of forest that separated his little house from the rest of the town. 

 

It was a long trip, about four hours on foot, which was Charles’ only means of transportation since his stepfather wouldn’t allow him to drive his car, untrusting in the small boy to bring it back in one piece. 

 

Charles didn’t mind the walk so much, as he enjoyed the alone time the long walk would provide him with. 

 

He didn’t get that very often around here. His stepfather was almost always drunk, and tended to barge into Charles’ small room unannounced to shout at him about things that the small boy had nothing to do with.

 

Charles finished fussing with his laces and got up to retrieve the large wicker basket that contained his step brother's things. He didn’t know what was inside, and he was hesitant to peek as there was no telling what kind of things the older man was into these days. 

 

Making sure to grab his apple red coat from the rack, Charles shouted his departure to his stepfather who had most likely passed out in his spot on the couch, before stepping out into the cool, autumn air. 

 

The sun was setting beyond the cluster of trees in front of him, casting the sky in light hues of pink and orange. Charles admired the colors for a moment before taking the first steps into his journey, boots crunching on the fallen leaves of mid-autumn, skin prickling with goose pimples underneath his coat at the chill of the breeze passing through. 

 

Charles wrapped his arms around him as best as he could with the heavy basket wrapped around one and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that passed through him as he walked into the trees, eyes carefully on the trail ahead of him so as not to stray from it absently. 

 

The deeper he wandered, the darker it got. 

 

Though the sun still fought to cast it’s last rays, it wasn’t enough to light the trail Charles walked. 

 

This wasn’t the first time he’d been sent to into the woods to deliver something to his stepbrother, so Charles wasn’t too afraid, as he knew the moon would soon rise and the trail would shine with it’s dull glow just enough for him to see. 

 

It was a full moon tonight as well, which would bring an even brighter glow into the trees. 

 

Charles had walked for what felt like an eternity when the moon finally started to shine at its fullest, it's presence in the sky bright like the palest star, the glow of it just strong enough to reach the trail where Charles ambled. 

 

It was only when the moon had reached its peak did Charles start to hear a noise. 

 

It was faint and sounded very far away, but it was  _ loud,  _ even from this distance. 

 

Charles stopped moving once he heard the noise ring out into the night, his ears straining to hear the noise through the music of the crickets scattered about, and for a moment that was all he could hear. 

 

Until it sounded through the woods again. 

 

It was a vicious and thunderous  _ roar  _ that echoed through the spaces in the trees and left Charles breathless where he stood, frozen, trembling. It lasted a only few seconds before dying down to a howl and then quieting completely, leaving even the crickets fearfully silent in its wake. 

 

Charles quickened his pace once he was able to move again, fearfully alert of what could be lurking around the outskirts of the forest. He was a smart boy, he knew what sort of creatures made their home deep in the dark of the trees, though he’d never been unfortunate enough to run into anything on his previous trips. 

 

There was still miles of wood between him and his step brother’s house, and with the roars still resonating in his ears, Charles was becoming more and more uneasy. 

 

Charles did his best to just  _ keep moving _ and tried to ignore his lingering apprehensiveness.

 

It took awhile, but with every step he took, Charles could feel his fear slowly start to melt. The call of the owls and the snapping of the leaves and twigs under his feet lulled him back into placidity, and soon Charles forgot all about the haunting bellow of the unknown creature. 

 

He even started to sing quietly to himself, his soft voice filling the silent spaces the sounds of the forest couldn’t quite reach. 

 

Nearly three hours had passed since Charles first left the warmth of his small home, and he figured he was close by now, as he was starting to recognize some of the landmarks that floated around his step brother's land. 

 

There was the twisted and gnarled tree that was laid permanently on its side and the rusted, broken bear trap that sat just a few feet away, both of them resting about ten miles outside of that horrid man’s house. 

 

Charles was so wrapped up in his excitement to be halfway done with his journey that it took him a moment to realize he was no longer singing alone. 

 

There was a second voice filling the chill in the air. 

 

This one was low, deep, and grating, slithering over Charles’ skin and filling him with icy dread. 

 

Charles stopped dead, the leaves underfoot giving a final, dying crunch before the woods fell eerily silent. Not even the crickets dared to sing, becoming silent once they realized that the stage no longer belonged to them. 

 

The voice got closer, and everything inside of Charles screamed at him to  _ run,  _ but Charles couldn’t move. 

 

He could only listen as the song he was singing just a moment ago was sang by  _ something else _ . 

  
  


_ “If you go down to the woods today, _

 

_ you’re sure of a big surprise.  _

 

_ If you go down to the woods today,  _

 

_ you better go in disguise!”  _

  
  


The pound of Charles’ heart was  _ deafening  _ in his ears, his mind struggling hear the daunting thoughts dashing through it.

 

_ Move, damn it, move! _

 

Then a moment later, something more lurid.

 

_ That voice belongs to no man but beasts cannot sing.  _

 

Still, Charles remained motionless, paralyzed by the unsettlingly guttural song

  
  


_ “For every bear that ever there was,  _

 

_ will gather there for certain because,  _

 

_ today’s the day the teddy bears have their…”  _

  
  


The singing abruptly stopped with that final purred note. 

 

The forest remained silent. 

 

Not even Charles dared to breathe. 

 

He waited. Statuesque and silent, waiting for the forest to come alive again, the predator gone and with it the threat. 

 

Then there was a soft crunch behind Charles, and a word whispered into his ear. 

 

_ “Picnic.”  _

 

A terrified gasp shot out of Charles’ throat, and then he was running. 

 

The darkness blurred and turned to ink around him as sprinted through the trees, moving faster than he ever has before, a nervous energy buzzing through his veins. 

 

Briefly, Charles thought about dropping the basket, but his body dismissed it before it could even fully form and told him to just keep  _ running, Charles, just keep running.  _

 

Another powerful howl called out from behind him, far too close for comfort, and Charles knew he was being chased. 

 

Hunted. 

 

Like  _ prey _ . 

 

The inky trees whipped around him, the chilled air stung his cheeks and dried the unnoticed tears running down his face faster than they could fall, but Charles didn’t stop. 

 

He ignored the pain in his chest and the ache in his legs and the bounding footsteps he  _ swore  _ he could hear behind him. 

 

Charles didn’t even think about stopping until he suddenly saw golden lights in the distance, beckoning him closer and promising him warmth and safety. 

 

His step brother’s house. 

 

He was almost there. 

 

Charles could practically  _ feel  _ the warmth of the flames crackling in his step brother’s fireplace and then suddenly the ground was rushing up to meet him. 

 

He slammed into the earth, teeth cutting painfully sharp into his bottom lip, blood spilling from the wound and onto the autumn leaves below him. 

 

The basket holding his step brother’s belongings goes flying and then skids to a stop a few feet in front of him, but Charles barely notices.

 

Disoriented, the boy stayed where was for a moment, trying to listen to the trees around him. 

 

Everything was still. 

 

The predator was still hunting. 

 

Slowly, Charles moved his head from side to side, sweeping the forest floor for any signs of the creature stalking him. 

 

He found none, only fallen leaves and pale, shimmering moonlight. 

 

A thick growl, almost a purr, drummed out from behind him and vibrated through his bones. 

 

He was up before he even made the decision to move. 

 

It wasn’t until he was bursting through the thicket of trees that outlined his step brother’s backyard did he realize how ridiculous he would look to the older man. Running through the woods empty handed when his father had already told him that Charles would be bringing his things. 

 

He could already imagine the look on the man’s face when he panted out his story about being chased through the woods by a large predator. 

 

His step brother wasn’t going to be too happy, but Charles couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Charles didn’t stop until he was slamming into the back door of the little cottage, hands pounding furiously on the smooth wood, panicked voice working its way through his burning throat to call out to the man inside.

 

There is no answer. 

 

He tries the handle and finds it locked. 

 

All it takes is one long, blood-curdling roar from the trees for Charles to summon the last of his strength and kick the door in, wood splintering from the force. 

 

He hurries inside and shuts the door, then quickly looks around the small kitchen for something to put in front of it. He spots a heavy looking china cabinet and pushes it in front of the door, glass tinkling inside the glass case as it scraped across the wooden floor. 

 

Once he has it resting firmly against the door, Charles tries to calm himself, knowing he needs to think rationally if he wants to make it back home. 

 

He settles down enough to take in his surroundings. 

 

It’s then that he notices his alone. 

 

Surely if his step brother  _ were  _ in, he’d come running to the sound of his door being busted in, even if he’d been drinking earlier in the day. His step brother wasn’t a heavy sleeper, inebriated or not, and Charles had the scars to prove it. 

 

He’d endured many beatings as a child from by the hands of the older man, simply because he’d woken him up by being too loud when playing. 

 

Charles listened for any signs of movement, from the inside or the outside, but he was met with nothing but quiet and the soft crackling of a fire a couple rooms away.

 

Apprehension pooled in his stomach once more. 

 

Something terrible has happened, Charles could feel it. 

 

Making sure to keep his footsteps as silent as possible, he creeps through the kitchen, through the dining room, and into the living room. 

 

He’s mindful of every noise he thinks he hears outside. The sitting room tells him nothing besides the approximate time the fire has been burning. 

 

It takes Charles’ a few seconds to realize that that’s more than nothing. 

 

It tells him that his step brother is presumably still in the house, as he would never be dull enough to leave a fire burning if he was going out. 

 

Which means he most likely  _ did  _ wake up when Charles kicked down the door. 

 

Knowing the older man like he did, Charles guessed his step brother was likely armed and hiding. 

 

More alert than he had been since entering the home, Charles cautiously and quietly made his way down the hall, his boots softly thumping against the hardwood floor. He was warm in his favored red coat now, sweat beading on his brow and curling the hair at the nape of his neck. 

 

His lip had stopped bleeding, a small stream of blood sat caked on his chin. He wiped it away with his sleeve. 

 

Charles made it to the master bedroom, the door was firmly shut, but a soft, golden light spilled into the hallway from under the door. He braced a shaking hand against the heavy wood and slowly pushed. 

 

His step brother was still in the house, but he wasn’t armed and hiding. 

 

Instead, he was torn open, gutted, and smeared along the walls. 

 

Charles didn’t scream, he couldn’t. All he could do was turn, and vomit onto the floor. 

 

Once he was done emptying the contents of his stomach, Charles reached a hand out and pulled the door closed, not wanting look at the mutilated remains of his step brother anymore. 

 

As much as he loathed the older man, no one deserved to die like that. 

 

The boy was still hunched over the puddle of sick when a terrible crash rang throughout the house, the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood sent ice cold dread straight to Charles’ heart. 

 

For the second time that night, Charles’ body acted before his mind could catch up, sending him racing for the closet doors just a few feet away. 

 

He stuffed himself inside and shut the door just as another crash sounded out, this one closer than the last, as if someone were throwing things around in the other room.

 

Charles’ panicked sobs were loud, too loud, in the tiny space. 

 

He pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle them just as a menacing growl filled the spot where Charles once stood. 

 

His lungs suddenly seized up, and Charles held his breath as something walked into the room. 

 

_ It was a man.  _

 

Or, at least it  _ looked  _ like a man. 

 

Charles’ eyes had to be playing tricks on him. That, or he was  _ out of his mind.  _

 

Once the figure stepped fully into blood painted bedroom, its head turned away as it searched for any sign of its prey, Charles knew he was out of his mind insane. He had to be, because there was no explanation for this. 

 

It  _ was  _ a man, and a very attractive one at that. 

 

_ What about the howls?  _ A voice whispered in the back of his mind.  _ What about the voice sang your song? That was no man's voice. No  _ man  _ could sound like that.  _

 

The voice was right, no man  _ could  _ sound like that. 

 

Charles shifted a little closer to the door so he could see better through the small crack in the double doors. 

 

It’s face was surely man, that much he could tell. 

 

The sharp cheekbones and even sharper jawline made the young boy’s knees quake, threatening to send him tumbling onto the floor of the large, walk in closet. The hair seemed to be of a dusty brown color, and the eyes-

 

Charles gasped quietly behind his hand when he saw those eyes. 

 

Those certainly were  _ not  _ a man’s eyes. 

 

They glowed like a harvest moon, a deep orange surrounding a barely there dot of black. 

 

Despite the alarming shade of the eyes, the figure looked entirely human. 

 

From the broad shoulders and slim waist, to the long sturdy looking legs. 

 

For a moment, Charles thought about stepping out from his hiding spot, so he could introduce himself and ask the man for help. 

Then Charles heard the growl again, and slowly came to realize it was coming from deep within the man’s chest. It was an inhuman noise, one no man should be capable of, and it sounded angry, frustrated. 

 

Because it couldn’t find it’s prey. 

 

Dread raced through Charles’ veins and caused his body to tremble, his legs given out under him and his body slowly collapsing to the closet floor. He shuffled back as deep into the closet as he could go, and then he waited. 

 

Another growl, this one more subdued, as if it was starting to figure something out…

 

Charles had just barely put it together when the closet doors were ripped off their hinges and thrown across the room, the sounds of splitting wood lost beneath his terrified shouts. 

 

The man stepped into the closet with Charles, eyes hungrily roaming over his body. 

 

Charles tried to scamper backwards some more, to get away from those ravenous eyes, but he was only met with more wall. 

 

He was trapped. 

 

He was going to die. 

 

Tears ran freely down Charles’ face, his sobs the only sound in the small space. He didn’t know his exact fate, but the splattered remains of his step brother gave him a hint of what it could be. 

 

The man didn’t move from his spot in the hollow door way for a long moment, just stood there and stared, his glowing eyes taking in Charles’ huddled, shaken form. 

 

His eager gaze had softened slightly, though it was still hungry, it seemed as though the man was thinking something over. 

 

This look did nothing to ease Charles’ anxiety, as there was no telling what was running through the stranger’s mind now. 

 

Suddenly the stranger reached out, faster than Charles could fight, grabbing the boy tightly by the ankle and pulling him out of the closet, then down the hall, narrowly avoiding the sick puddle. 

 

His skin burned where it was roughly dragged across the wood, and Charles tried to kick out at the man to knock him loose, but he didn’t have the leverage. 

 

Sharp pain bloomed from where he was gripped and Charles looked down to discover that long claws now adorned the man’s hand, cutting impossibly deep into Charles’ boots. 

 

The boy’s suspicions were confirmed. 

 

_ Not a man _ , Charles thought wildly,  _ something else entirely.  _

 

The  _ thing  _ didn’t let him go until they were in the living room, the fire burning strongly in the fireplace, and Charles thought for one fleeting moment that it seemed like the logs had been replaced. 

 

His bleeding leg was set gently back on the floor, and for a moment Charles thought about running, but he knew there was nowhere he could go that he would not be found. 

 

Charles laid still where he was put, chest heaving with panic, and he watched as the savage took in its surroundings thoughtfully before leaving the room entirely, walking out of the boy’s line of sight. 

 

He sat up quickly then, and took the time alone to inspect the severity of his injuries. 

 

Removing his boot was a painful task, but once it was off Charles gently lifted the leg of his trousers and was met with five small puncture wounds. They weren’t terribly deep, but they were painful and oozing with fat drops blood. 

 

Charles picked up his boot again and looked over the puncture holes in the leather with wonder

 

No matter what his stalker turned captor was, Charles had to admit that it’s strength and physical features were fascinating.

 

A noise from the kitchen had Charles prepared to use his boot as weapon to fend off his captor, but what he saw enter the room was not the same figure that had left earlier. 

 

Charles swallowed down a scream as a dreadfully  _ large  _ black wolf came sauntering into the sitting room with him, all inky fur and devastatingly sharp teeth that glistened in the light of the fire. 

 

The only thing that kept the boy rooted where he sat were the beast’s glowing, blood orange eyes. 

 

The creature before him was the same man as before. 

 

Ghosts of fairy tales read to him as a child by a mother that used to care ran though his mind, all of them whispering the same fabled word. 

 

_ Werewolf. _

 

The thing that stalked him through the trees, the thing that sung to him in a voice like broken gravel. 

 

The thing that tore his wicked step brother to shreds and cornered him in a house he could not escape from. 

 

Was a werewolf, called upon by the pull of tonight’s full moon. 

 

If Charles wasn’t so dreadfully fascinated, he would’ve been sickeningly terrified. Even as a child, Charles never once thought that those fairytales held even an inkling of truth in them, all of them creative cautionary tales to deter children from running around alone at night.

 

Charles almost laughed at the irony in it all. 

 

The beast stood patiently in front of him, eyes glowing almost encouragingly, waiting for the boy to piece it all together. 

 

It must’ve seen something telling in the boy’s eyes, because it blinked slowly once, as if it was nodding, then dropped to the floor so it could lay down. 

 

Charles tried to scoot backwards so he could give the large beast some room, but instead a loud cry tore its way out of his chest when tried to move his injured ankle. 

 

The beast made a noise like it was concerned and shuffled closer to Charles, the air between them filling with a soft sniffing as it nosed at the boy’s ankle. 

 

It’s snout was cold and wet, making Charles giggle lightly at the tickle before he could hold it back. 

 

The beast let out a huff, like it was laughing too. 

 

Charles sat still while the beast did it’s own inspection, but was unable to hold back a slight jerk of pain when it ran it’s hot tongue over the wounds. 

 

Soft whines left the beasts throat as it lapped at Charles’ ankle, and the boy suddenly realized that it was saying sorry. 

 

Slowly, Charles reached out a trembling hand, and stroked it through the beasts’ thick, black fur. 

 

It stopped its lapping, and the whines became purrs as Charles pet and scratched at the beasts large head. Good lord, the thing had to be bigger than Charles’ own bed! 

 

Charles pet the beast a moment more before he decided he should say something. 

 

Anything. 

 

He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. 

 

Suddenly he felt silly, trying to talk to an impossibly large animal, but the boy figured they were going to be here for awhile because it didn’t seem like the beast planned on eating him. 

 

He might as well be friendly. 

 

“Did, um, did you...did you do that to him?” 

 

Charles didn’t specify who ‘him’ was, but he knew he didn’t need to. 

The wolf’s apricot eyes grew sharp and focused before glowing soft, mournful. 

 

That was all Charles needed. 

 

“ _ Why _ ?” The boy whispered. 

 

He wasn’t crying over his step brother’s death by any means, but his murder was brutal, and Charles wanted to know why. 

 

He of course didn’t expect the beast to answer him, but in a way, it did. 

 

The wolf let out a savage growl that made Charles cry out and snatch his hand away from the beast’s fur. 

 

The growl lasted a moment longer, rumbling through the room, making the boy shake softly. 

 

Charles wasn’t scared, exactly, but he didn’t feel safe either.  

 

He wasn’t sure what he was. 

 

The rumbling died down to a whine and then the beast shook it’s massive body, as if to shake away its previous displeasure.

 

With a final huff, the wolf fell silent and fixed Charles with a piercing gaze. 

 

Then there was a crack, followed by another whine, and then something started to happen. 

 

The beast was shifting, transforming. 

A hand flew to Charles’ mouth as the beast’s large body started to change, its bones breaking only to heal again in another form. The snapping of bone made his stomach churn, but Charles couldn’t, wouldn’t look away. 

 

The beast became smaller, like it was melting, fur falling away to reveal smooth skin underneath. 

 

Its head reshaping to resemble that of a man’s, long snout turning into a mockery of the sharp cheekbones and even sharper jawline Charles saw on the man before. 

 

Slowly, the beast of a wolf melted away to the man that dragged Charles into the sitting room what felt like hours ago. 

 

Except now, the man was naked. 

 

Charles felt a blush bloom across his face at the all exposed skin, but the man appeared unbothered by his bareness. 

 

A knowing smirk slowly tugged at the other man’s lips, and red hot irritation formed in Charles’ chest. 

 

Butterflies fluttered to life in his stomach at the devilish smile, but Charles ignored them and focused on his annoyance instead.  

 

“Now that you are no longer beast, some  _ coverage  _ is in order, don’t you think?” Charles said, raising a sharp eyebrow, trying his best to appear unphased and not frightened. 

 

The man barked out a sharp laugh, amused at the boy’s sudden demanding nature, then slowly stood to his full, nude height. 

 

The blush returned with vigor, and Charles averted his eyes with an incredulous squeak.

 

Another barked laugh and then the man walked away, his footsteps telling Charles he was headed down the hallway, into gore caked bedroom. 

 

There were ruffling sounds for a moment, then the footsteps returned and the man was covered by his step brother’s clothes, the black turtleneck and trousers fitting him like a puzzle piece. 

 

He was ridiculously attractive. 

Charles suddenly realized it was no longer fear he was feeling, but a low insistent buzz of arousal. 

 

His body went cold with disbelieving guilt, unable to comprehend that he could ever feel something as shameful as  _ arousal  _ towards something so  _ inhuman _ . Charles drew in on himself as best he could with his injury and tried to ignore the way he was feeling. 

 

It was becoming hot in his place so close to the fire, sweat matting his hair to his face and causing his clothes to skin to his skin. His coat was too heavy to be wearing indoors. 

 

_ “Your coat is too heavy to be wearing indoors.”  _

 

Charles jumped as the man spoke, his voice still the same gravelly rumble that sang to him earlier, seemingly having read his mind. 

 

The man went on as if he hadn’t noticed, or was choosing to ignore, the way the boy frightened at his voice. 

 

_ “You need to remove it, before you burn up entirely. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” _

 

There was an accent Charles couldn’t identify buried deep in the roughness of the man’s voice. 

 

He briefly wondered where he hailed from. 

 

When the man realized his words were falling on deaf ears, he heaved a heavy sigh and gently slid off the chair, careful not to move too fast and startle the boy curled up in front of him. 

 

He put a large hand on one of Charles’ shoulders, just to establish contact. 

 

The boy shook slightly, but remained still, sky blue eyes staring up at him in fearful wonder. 

 

Slowly, another hand on his other shoulder, a thumb rubbing gentling circles into the red fabric of the boy’s coat. 

 

A few more circles and then the hands slid down the boy’s arms, stopping to cradle those smaller ones in his. 

 

The man took notice of how soft the boy’s skin was, pale like his beloved moon. 

 

It’s what attracted the beast to the boy in the first place. 

 

Charles was no longer shaking, just staring at the man, his reddened mouth slightly opened, his eyes wide with awe.

Gently, so very gently, the man pried the boy’s arms from around his legs. 

 

They fell limply at Charles’ sides, but still the boy made no move to remove his coat himself. 

 

The beast didn’t mind. 

 

He enjoyed taking care of what was his. 

 

The man reached out to untie the thick cotton strap tied around the boy’s slim torso, then he stopped, waiting to see if the boy would voice a protest. 

 

None came.

 

The boy’s gaze had shifted from frightened awe to one of confused and unsure arousal, the blue in his eyes swallowed whole by pitch black.

 

Now the beast knew the reason for the boy’s stillness. 

 

The predator felt a slow smile break across his face, exposing his teeth. Even in his human form, he’s been told that they are quite unsettling.  

 

The boy gasped sharply, and the beast pounced. 

 

Charles was knocked to the floor, his pained cry swallowed up by the man when their lips crashed together. His hands shot up to grip tightly onto the beast’s shoulders, nails digging in to the cotton of his turtleneck. 

 

Charles has never been kissed before, and he wonders if he should tell the man that, but then a wet tongue is licking over his lip, begging him for entry and the thought flees the boy’s mind. 

 

He parts his lips and lets the beast plunder his mouth, tongue meeting his and Charles tries to keep up, but he’s sure his inexperience shows.

 

The beast doesn’t seem to mind, sucking on Charles’ tongue with an eagerness that makes boiling heat pool in his groin, his cock starting to fill in the confines of his trousers. 

 

Charles whines low in his throat, his hips thrusting up for something,  _ anything _ , and the man gives it to him, thrusting down to meet the boy halfway, the delicious friction sending off sparks behind his eyelids. 

 

The man makes a noise like he’s dying then suddenly pulls away, leaving Charles panting and aching on the ornate rug spread across the hardwood floor. 

 

At first, the boy thinks he’s done something wrong, but then large hands are pulling him up and reaching for the buttons on his coat, quick fingers working the buttons and stripping the garment off his shoulders. 

 

The man doesn’t even get it off Charles’ arms completely before he’s on him again, pulling the smaller body into his lap and licking the sweat off his pale throat, biting into the soft skin. 

 

His boy tastes so sweet. 

 

The beast growls deep in his throat, and the boy to lets out a low moan and quakes in his arms, small trembling hands reaching up to grip his hair as if to keep him in place. 

 

Charles starts rocking in the man’s lap, groaning at the sickly sweet pleasure the friction causes, his cock painfully hard and leaking stickily into his trousers. The man sucks bruises into this throat, and the boy knows he’ll have to explain them to his step father later, but he cannot bring himself to care. 

 

There’s a low, steady purr rumbling continuously out of the beast’s chest that vibrates through Charles’ chest and it makes his head swim, his pulse beating erratically under his skin. 

 

Charles thinks he might burst from it all. 

 

A sudden thought appears in the boy’s mind and he tugs the man away from his no doubt purpling throat. 

 

“Wh-what’s your name?” Charles pants out. 

 

A rumble that might be a laugh comes from the beasts chest.

 

_ “Erik.”  _

 

“Oh. I’m Charles.” 

 

_ “I know, sweet boy, I know.”  _

 

With that, Charles surges forward, pressing his lips Erik’s, not thinking about how the beast already knows his name when he had not been told it. Erik groans and grips the boy brusingly by the hips, moving him so he grinds harder into Erik’s lap. 

 

Both of them moan into each other’s mouths at the feel of it, and Erik thinks they’re wearing too many clothes. 

 

Erik pulls away reluctantly to strip the boy of his beloved coat, growling in frustration at the cardigan and button up underneath it. His boy wears so many layers, but Erik makes quick work of them all and soon Charles sits bare chested in his lap, pale skin glowing with sweat and pink nipples hardened with arousal. 

 

Briefly, the beast wonders if this is the boy’s first time. 

 

Deciding it doesn’t matter, he’ll be sweet to his boy, Erik gently tips Charles to the floor again, hoping the rug will be kind to his bare skin. 

 

Charles whines when Erik uses his weight to press him into the rug, the fabric soft against his skin, his noises swallowed up by the beast as their mouths meet frantically once more. 

 

The beast kisses like he’s trying to devour him, and Charles almost can’t stand it, his body too hot and mind going pleasantly blurry, content to lie there and let the beast eat him whole. 

 

Erik breaks away from Charles’ impossibly red and swollen mouth to suck sharp kisses down his chest, stopping to take a hardened nipple in his mouth and growling at the noises his boy makes when he does. 

 

Charles is a dessert too pretty to eat and it drives the beast mad. 

 

The wolf inside Erik claws to get to the surface, to touch and taste the boy as Erik does, whining as he is shoved down deep. 

 

It would do no good to lose control here. 

 

Erik gives the boy’s nipple one final lick before he continues down his chest, biting at the softness of Charles’ belly before he pulls his trousers open with his teeth, smirking at the quiet curse the boy makes. 

 

The wolf likes show off, and Erik would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it too. 

 

Charles is close to begging by the time Erik tears open his trousers, actually sobbing when he finally wraps a large hand around his weeping cock, tears falling from his eyes down into his hair. 

 

Charles has touched himself before, but it’s nothing compared to how incredibly  _ good  _ it feels when Erik touches him, and the boy swears he’s going to shake apart. 

 

Erik’s hand is warm on him, the stroke and twist of it making his toes curl and his cock leak steadily onto the man’s fingers, the wet sounds pulling a flustered whine from his throat, his hands coming up to cover his face.

 

It doesn’t take long for the world to shatter apart around Charles, lights going off behind his eyes, a near scream filling the empty spaces in the sitting room. 

 

The beast strokes him through it, and keeps stroking still when Charles becomes sensitive, not letting up in speed or grip. The boy takes it, laying limp in front of the smoldering fire, sounds he is unaware of making pouring from his lips.

 

His whole body trembles, and Erik relishes every sound, every quiver of the boy completely at his mercy beneath him. 

 

The wolf within howls with delight. 

 

Erik’s insistent stroking soon makes Charles hard again. He releases his grip then, bringing his soiled hand up to the boy’s sinful mouth for him to clean. 

 

Charles does this with an eagerness that makes the beast’s cock twitch in his trousers, pink tongue coming out to lick himself off his fingers, sucking them into his mouth. 

 

A low and steady growl works its way out of Erik’s chest at the sight. 

 

Once his hand is clean Erik pulls away to press a bruising kiss to Charles’ lips, tasting the boy for himself, before he unlaces his forgotten boot and strips him of his trousers completely. Now Charles lies naked before him, uncomprehendingly beautiful and his for the taking. 

 

And the beast intends to  _ take _ . 

 

Charles watches from his place on the floor as Erik undoes his trousers and pulls out his cock. 

 

Despite his best efforts to avert his gaze upon first seeing the beast naked, Charles caught just a  _ glimpse  _ of his well endowed friend. 

 

Seeing it now makes him ache for something he doesn’t know of. 

 

Charles is sure he’s about to figure out what it is. 

 

If Erik notices Charles staring, he doesn’t say anything, he simply leans forward and drowns the boy in another kiss. This one is more gentle than all the others, and Charles brings his hands up to softly cradle the man’s face. 

 

Erik pulls away after a moment, bringing a hand to Charles’ lips once more. 

 

The boy doesn’t hesitate in pulling those fingers into his mouth, warm tongue lapping at them like a cat licking up cream to get them dripping wet, moans falling around the thick digits. 

 

Once Erik deems them drenched enough, he nudges the boy’s thighs apart, shivering at the sight the boy makes when he spreads his legs wide enough for the beast to sit between. 

 

He brings his fingers down to Charles’ hole, spreading the wet around and rubbing the pads of his fingers roughly against the opening, the boy whining and twisting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

 

He most likely doesn’t, Erik thinks to himself. 

 

It takes a moment, but soon Charles loosens enough for Erik to push a finger inside, not stopping until it’s all the way in. 

 

Charles  _ wails _ . 

 

The intrusion burns, but it isn’t overtly painful, just persistent and inescapable. It makes his toes curl on the rug and his eyes roll back into his head. It makes him clench around Erik’s finger, a litany of sobs fall from his lips. 

 

He feels like he’ll burst, but then the beast starts  _ talking _ . 

 

_ “God, Charles, you’re doing so for me, you’re so good. You respond so beautifully to my touch, it’s like you’ve been waiting for it, not too long now sweet boy, you’re almost there. I just need you to relax a little for me, can you do that, Charles? I know you can, you’re such a good boy, it’s almost a shame to corrupt you like I am. My wolf has been howling for you since I first saw you, I can’t believe you’re mine now.”  _

 

Charles gets so lost in his beasts words that he doesn’t feel the second finger slide into him, or the third, until he’s suddenly realizing how very  _ full  _ he is, stretched and clenching around Erik’s fingers. 

 

His second orgasm is almost an afterthought. 

 

It burns through his body so quickly that it leaves the boy breathless, pliant and loose. 

 

Erik pumped his fingers a few more times before deeming Charles ready enough. He leans forward to kiss his boy and wipes his hand through the mess on Charles’ stomach, lines himself up, and slowly but steadily pushes inside. 

 

Charles cries out into Erik’s mouth, hands flying up to clench Erik’s still clothed shoulders as he’s split open by his beast, overly sensitive and becoming impossibly more full with every inch that fills him. 

 

By the time his hips are flush against Charles, Erik thinks he’s going to combust. His boy is so hot inside, and impossibly tight around him. So much so that the beast has to focus all he is on where their mouths are joined together to keep himself from spilling into Charles. 

 

There is a pause that’s filled with heavy breaths and wet smacks, and then Erik starts to move. 

 

He goes slow at first, thrusting gently into the wide eyed boy below him and letting him get used to the feeling of something inside of him, before he’s sure he isn’t going to shatter apart. 

 

Then he sets a punishing pace. 

 

Erik slams into Charles almost violently, rocking his smaller body roughly against the rug he’s laid on, burns no doubt already forming on his pale skin. 

 

Charles can’t feel those burns, though, all he can feel is his beast. 

 

His beast cages him in, swallowing every whimper and whine that’s thrust out of him, hips meeting his with such force that he’s sure he’s going to be sore for  _ days,  _ thick cock hitting something deep inside of him that sets him  _ ablaze _ . 

 

Charles felt like he could die, but he didn’t want to stop, not ever. He would die a thousand deaths if it meant he got to feel like this for even a moment. 

 

Simmering heat pools into his stomach and Charles knows he’s close. 

 

They’re not even kissing anymore, just panting into each other’s mouth, feeling every sound the other makes, their foreheads pressed together. 

 

Charles makes a sound like he’s been shot and comes, orgasm ripping through him near painfully, painting their chests sticky and squeezing down on his beast like he’s trying to pull his orgasm from him. 

 

With one final thrust, Erik spills into Charles, a howl forcing its way out of his throat and into the small space of the sitting room. 

 

The beast is sure he blacks out, but quickly comes to to see his boy laying below him, eyes lidded and lips swollen. 

 

He’s beautiful.

 

For a long moment, they just breathe together. 

 

Charles feels like he’s lost his soul, body floating listlessly between the floor and his beast. He’s never felt so wonderful in his life, and he hopes with all that he is that his beast doesn’t tire of him so soon. 

 

He remembers the man’s guttural words from earlier, and the fear of being forgotten dissipates. 

 

Erik shifts above him, lifting his body off the smaller boy so he can clean them both up. 

 

It takes a moment to find all their clothing, and Erik sacrifices the one good shirt he found in that corpse’s closet to wipe the bodily fluids from their chests. 

 

When they’re both fully dressed, Erik minus a shirt for now, Charles crawls into the man’s lap aching to be held. Erik easily obliges his boy, gathering him up in his arms and holding him posessively to his chest. 

 

He meant it when he Charles was his. 

 

Neither of them speak for a long while, content to simply hold and be held, but in the end it’s Charles who breaks the silence first. 

 

“Why did kill him?” 

 

The question in whispered into Erik’s chest. They both know that the boy asked earlier and they both know he never got an answer. 

 

There’s a moment where Charles thinks he’ll be denied a second time, but then Erik speaks in his distant and rumbling voice. 

 

_ “He was horrid towards you, and I could not stand to watch it anymore.”  _

 

This prompts another question. 

 

“What about my step father? Do you intend to kill him too, or shall I find his remains when I return home?” 

 

A pause. 

 

_ “The thought has crossed my mind, but once I realized he was your only source of income, I put the thought aside. If you were to ask me not to, I would listen, but the moment you step into the world by yourself is the moment I’ll come for him.”  _

Charles thought on his beast’s words for a long moment. He wouldn't wish a death that terrible on the man, but the boy would be lying if he said he didn’t despise him with all he was. 

 

“I don’t want you to kill him...but I don’t want him around anymore. I want him gone, as far away from me as possible.” 

 

The beast hummed, a low noise that caressed Charles’ chest. 

 

_ “Then so be it, sweet boy.”  _

 

Instead of walking another four hours, Charles got a ride on the back of a great, black wolf, its fur soft against his face as he nestled against his beast. 

 

When Charles arrived home, he was to be the free boy he always dreamed of being. Free to wonder where he wanted, and do what he wanted whenever he wanted, without the fear of being beaten or shouted at. 

 

When Charles arrived home, he would no longer be alone. 

 

He’d be in the company of someone who wanted him, and perhaps even love him. 

 

His beloved beast. 

 

For the first time in a long time, happiness bloomed like a rose in his chest, and Charles started to sing. 

 

_ “If you go down to the woods today…”  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, feel free to leave me your opinions! 
> 
> I'm on tumblr @spidersonparker.


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